Possession
by Darkfirelight
Summary: Chlark-2. Dark fic. Warnings inside, but not for the sensitive or particularly faint of heart. Clark Luthor attacks Smallville high during 2004 Graduation Day, and unfortunately Chloe Sullivan isn't wearing a Kryptonite necklace.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Smallville.

Summary: Chlark-2 (Earth-2). Clark Luthor attacked Smallville during the 2004 Graduation Day, and upon finding Chloe Sullivan in the Torch office attacked her; Unfortunately the girl in question wasn't wearing any meteor rock. Dark fic. Mentions of rape, bad language, violence, nudity and possible character death.

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><p>Chloe Sullivan cowered beneath the thick wooden desk, heart beating uncontrollably as she desperately fought to keep as silent as possible. The young brunette couldn't believe what was happening; Mere hours ago she had been finishing her final article for the Torch and bidding a fond farewell to the building she had spent so much time in when, out of nowhere, this stranger clad in black had appeared out of nowhere.<p>

She knew who he was of course. Anyone with a journalistic bone in their body knew who he was; Clark Luthor.

The less controlled of the Luthor's, it was pretty much assumed that every Luthor was guilty of one crime or another, but him... His ledger was practically dripping; Assault, harassment, blackmail and bribery; The (supposedly) youngest Luthor was suspected of everything from DUI all the way to cold-blooded murder. He was a beast.

She froze like a cornered animal, eyes wide in fear as the noise in the office stopped. He hadn't left.

"This was a nice shirt." Tears gathered as she fought to stay silent, hearing the monster's footsteps echo around the office, the only other occupant the pile of ashes lying next to the door. "...There isn't someone _else _in this office, is there?"

Her breathes came in shallower, bright green eyes widening even further as he stepped through the office, steadily coming in closer and closer. She tensed as the footsteps came towards her; He was doing it on purpose, mocking her powerlessness with each resounding thud. "Why... Me?..." She couldn't help but whimper, praying that he would just _leave_.

A chuckle sounded near to her position and she pressed up against the back of the desk, hands over her head as she desperately hoped for mercy.

"There you are." She started, wildly looking up at her tormentor. His body was silhouetted by the darkness of the office, leaving only his thick black hair, carefully slicked and shining with gel, and blue eyes, gleaming in the faint light from the hall, staring down at her. Deep blue pools with neither compassion nor empathy. Cold like a frozen ocean. "Hiding like a frightened rabbit." He smirked.

Abruptly he swatted the desk aside, sending it flying through the air to impact against the brick wall across the office. She whimpered as her "Wall of weird" was hit, sending articles through the air, slowly falling to the ground.

She desperately scrambled backwards crab-like as he approached, ignoring her panic and fear as though she were a feeble animal, to be hunted at his leisure. "Trying to run, are we?" He grabbed her hands as she went to do just that, clammy hands caught in a vice-like grip as he casually held her arms above her head.

She yelped as he applied pressure, malicious gaze lingering on her lips and then travelling down over her concealed body. He grinned as he took in her terror, as though it were entertainment. "Please..." She whimpered, squirming helplessly in his grip.

His grin widened as he watched her look up at him, pleading reflected from every inch of her. It almost seemed to... _Excite _him. "_Begging. _How... Pathetic." He sneered.

If anything his scorn eased her more than his smile. At least if he looked down on her he might see her as pointless to kill and leave her be, he might even leave her unharmed. That thought was quickly dispelled as he tightened his grip once more, her wrists near-cracking with the pressure. She yelped again.

The whole time she had been at this school she had been under threat; Ian Randall's attempt to kill her, barely stopped by Greg Arkin (Who was now ashes), psychotic meteor freaks attacking her. (Most died from either the effects of the meteor rock or self-inflicted wounds, and those who didn't were either taken down by the police or, for a few months, Van Mcnulty who hunted them due to Tina Greer killing his father whilst disguised as Lana Lang.)

Never before, though, had she felt so threatened as she did now, staring up at this vicious _predator._ She'd always prided herself on her fearlessness and strength of character, but staring up at him now she felt totally worthless.

Luthor's lips twitched as he looked over her once more, seemingly seeing something that hadn't been there before. "Looks like you've given up." He noted, blue orbs briefly flashing a faint, burnished orange.

Her eyes teared up even further as he shifted her across the office, throwing her towards the upturned desk with little effort. She stumbled, catching herself on the edge of the desk and crying out as she received a cut across her palm. If anything it just excited him even more. "Please stop." She tried once more, bracing herself against the desk as she stared up at him, gulping.

"Stop?" He repeated, pushing her once more and just smiling wider as she backed up even further. He made it sound like a foreign concept, like mercy or pity or sympathy were non-existent. What little hope she had dwindled.

She didn't understand why he was being so particularly monstrous with her; He'd been ruthless and methodical as he took down the three other students, quick and efficient even as he taunted them; She didn't get why he was being so cruel to her when he'd limited his _behaviour _with the others. "Why are you doing this?" She tried one last time.

"'Why'?" He crooned, voice kindly yet expression betraying his true intentions. "Why not?"

It was at that moment, as she gazed into ruthless, cruel eyes; staring at his callous grin and taking in his methodical, calculating glances across her form, that Chloe Sullivan, for the first time in her life, lost hope.

She shivered as he stepped closer, shoving her back to trip over one of the legs of the desk, leaving her sprawled on the floor. "You people just keep on running or hiding or fighting... And you just keep on _failing."_ He spoke idly, standing over her. "How pathetic." He repeated, looming over her with an almost crazed expression.

She shook as he dropped to crouch above her, situating a knee between her thighs. "Wh-What are you...?" She stopped, stunned as he reached down to unbuckle his belt, cold blue orbs locked onto her own horrified green. "No, _no._" She keened, struggling in futility as he tore her jeans off with ease. "Let me _go!_"

She stared up with blank eyes as he tore at her shirt, smirking gleefully as he did so. "I don't think I'll be letting you go for a long time. Chloe." He grinned, lazily holding her down and glancing at the nameplate that had conveniently landed face up next to the toppled desk.

Chloe sobbed as he brushed her hair away from her eyes, taking special care to hold her gaze as he thrust forward.

At that moment Chloe knew; She was in hell.

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><p>AN: Another story. Decided to write something particularly dark so that I can keep a focus on the more light-hearted stuff and I noticed that there are virtually no CLXCS fics, so... Hope you enjoy, and it will eventually become less dark, but CL is a monster, so it'll take a while.

Right now I've plans for that pairing, but I'll also leave it up to the reviewers who she ends up with between these two;

Clark Luthor. (Earth-2)

Clark Kent. (Earth-1)


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Smallville.

**Chapter two:**

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><p>Clark Luthor smirked down at the panting figure beneath him, taking in her full curves, her supple breasts and the way that her bedraggled hair fanned across her face almost sensually. There was something to be said for the innocuous way that even something simple could seem so... Erotic.<p>

When he had originally come to this small ragtag town in the countryside shadow of Metropolis his only intention had been to 'get rid' of the meteor freaks that seemed to plague his existence and humanity in general and anyone else that got in his way. (Or anyone he felt like killing; What was a job without the fun benefits, after all?)

The girl cowering before him right now, however, had awoken something within him; Something _primal_ , something beyond even the lust for carnage that so often drove him forward, beyond the urge to kill or mindless lust. Seeing those luscious, full lips of hers parted in fear, the way those emerald eyes of her's gazed up at him; Even the tears running down her pronounced cheekbones, the _desperation_ in her movement. It excited him like few other things before had.

Part of him wanted her to fight back; To throw herself him, full of rage and hate, to see the _passion _etched upon her face, to see the _drive _that pushed her forwards, and, in turn, to see it leave her as she realized his strength and her lack thereof. He wanted her to see how hopeless her situation was; Beyond even her current fear, beyond even the stunned horror reflected in those beautiful eyes.

He _wanted _her, beyond simple sex and subservience.

He had read this girl's articles before, had seen in every letter the passion that drove her, had seen in every story the commitment to her cause. The knowledge in her little 'webpage' was something that Lionel and, at times, even Lex had quoted; The fact that she was a highschooler with no official sanction and no proper documentation, the fact that _she _had seen what so many _others _had ignored... He would be lying if he said that he wasn't intrigued._  
><em>

She wasn't the most beautiful woman he had conquered; Neither the smartest nor the strongest, nor was she particularly talented beyond journalism and her acceptance of the supernatural such as meteor freaks, cloning and even _ghosts._

His smirk widened into an evil grin as he thrust into her once more, grunting.

Illicit moans and groans echoed about the office, allowing anyone that may have walked down the destroyed hallway insight into the acts occurring within, the only other sounds that of flesh slapping against flesh and her undignified sobs and deep breathing.

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><p>Clark Luthor chuckled, casually straightening his expensive shirt and doing his belt back up. "Today's been a great day." He spoke aloud, standing from his spot on Chloe's old chair. "I really have to thank you for all this, y'know?"<p>

Chloe remained on the floor, shivering in the cold.

"I'm serious, you were the first person to actually report on these 'Meteor Freaks'; How do you think I knew to come here?" He chuckled once more as she stilled. "What, you thought it was a coincidence? I've read a lot of your articles, Chloe Sullivan," He rolled the name off his tongue, almost as if to savor the syllables as they left his mouth. "From the meteor freaks to badmouthing my 'father'. Good job, by the way." He praised callously.

The black-clad monster got to his seat, stepping out of the office. He paused next to the door. "So... Thanks for a fun time." With that parting jab he left, leaving the brunette to lie crying and naked on the ground.

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><p>Chloe hadn't told anyone about what happened that day. Between the fire that spread through the school and her own terror she just shoved the horrific memory to the back of her mind, locking it up and trying to move on.<p>

"Chlo-bear?" The young woman turned, blinking at her worried father. "You okay?" He queried concernedly.

Her father Gabe, bless him, thought that she had just been traumatized by the fire. "I'm fine, dad." She reassured him with a fake smile. "Just... Missing Smallville."

She wasn't. Even before the fire, even before the meteor freaks the town had been a hellhole. She was glad to be out of the small, isolated, gossip ridden, morally bankrupt town that Smallville had become.

"Are we there yet?" She asked, smile becoming a little more genuine as he gave her a look. She and her father had drifted apart over her obsession with the meteor freaks that terrorized Smallville and verbal assault of the Luthor's, leading to him getting tongue-lashings aplenty at work; At least that was one good thing to come out of the razing of Smallville high, they hadn't been this close in a while.

Thankfully, they were there. Gabe Sullivan pulled up outside of a modest house near Metropolis' memorial park.

Chloe grabbed one of her suitcases and jogged up to the front door.

"Chloe!" Gabe called out in exasperation, grabbing the rest of the luggage in the boot of the car.

The girl smiled as she looked around the house, exploring the kitchen and bottom floor. "This is great!" She grinned, comparing this new place to her old one. She sobered as she thought of the many things lost that actually lead to her being here.

"I'm glad you approve." He father spoke fondly, reaching out to ruffle her hair.

Chloe headed over to one of the windows and looked out, lips twitching as she caught sight of the golden globe in the distance. Another great thing about their new house was it's proximity to the Daily Planet; The historical building was less than two blocks away. "When do you start your internship?" Her father questioned, putting down the last of the suitcases in the front room and coming up beside her to grin at the massive building looming overhead. He'd found her fixation on working for the Daily Planet amusing ever since she'd declared it at the age of six while getting finger-paint in her cousin Lois' hair.

"In about three days." She said, gauging the date and time of her interview in her head. "The... 20th." She confirmed.

"That's great, honey." He congratulated her with another hair ruffle. "I hope you enjoy it there." He encouraged.

"Thanks, dad." Chloe grinned widely, glancing back up at the shining orb overlooking the city, grin faltering only slightly on the LuthorCorp building that sat firmly nearby, even higher than the Planet itself.

She shook dark thoughts from her head and focused on the positive. For once, things were looking up in her life, and she wasn't going to ruin it by angsting over the past. She was stronger than that. She grit her teeth and straightened before pasting on another smile. "I'm gonna go up and look at my room." She told her father, turning towards the stairs.

She desperately ignored the hollow feeling that seemed to be trying so hard to fester, eating away at her like a cancer.

She just wasn't ready to face that yet.

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><p>Pauline Kahn stared down the new intern prospect, absently eyeing her records.<p>

This young girl, 'Sullivan', supposedly came from Hicksville, Kansas; Some town genuinely called 'Smallville'. Kahn had heard of the town in passing from some of the newer employees at the Planet, talking about the strangeness of the town; Supposedly it practically bred psycho's and murderer's like few other places _could_. Rumour had it that the meteor shower caused mutations in the local geography in general, causing radiation sickness and effects on the locals of a _supernatural_ persuasion.

Apparently this Sullivan girl wrote about them in her school's paper; 'The Torch' or some such drivel.

When she'd read it Pauline had thought that it was bull-crap, but between the sheer amount of rumours and the fact that the town's local paper had, at times, reported on it, she'd decided to put aside her natural skepticism and thoughts of the girl being an attention seeker and look into it.

And it was, to her great surprise, _true._

She'd looked over local papers, photographs and video footage, scientific studies and more and more forums discussing the 'mutagens' from the town and had, reluctantly, conceded that it was the truth.

While she hadn't been ready to accept that the girl wasn't just an attention seeker, she had nonetheless decided to listen to what she had to say. Then she'd seen her eyes.

Eyes like some of the correspondents sent out to third world countries of Iran. They were the eyes of someone that had seen too much; Someone that knew and had lost something precious. The young woman before her covered it with her enthusiastic movements, with her thesis and previous articles, with simpering and speaking on how she had wanted to work for the Planet since she was a babe.

But even as she spoke Kahn could see through it. The girl had the eyes of a _victim. _Something had happened to seriously fuck her up. She couldn't speculate what led a _nineteen-year-old _to look at the world with eyes like that, but she pushed aside her suspicions and welcomed the girl on board.

When the brunette left the office, clutching the sheaf of papers to her chest that would get her access to a medium-level pass, part of Pauline was saying that she had hired the girl out of interest.

But a tiny part of her reluctantly admitted that there was a measure of pity in her actions.

Only time would tell whether or not she had made a mistake or done the right thing.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Smallville.

**Chapter three:**

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><p>Chloe adjusted the edge of her shirt, examining her appearance in the mirror. She'd been at the Planet for just over a week now and in that time she'd, for the most part, simply been stuck on the obits and hotline tips.<p>

In the past few days she had adapted to life in the city with relative ease. After her friend Pete had moved to Wichita with his mother in the wake of another psycho hurting others for shits and giggles, she had been alone and left to fend for herself in the small town. While it may not sound so bad, the fact that it churned out nut-jobs in a quantity not dissimilar to it's amount of crop harvested per year was in no small part another factor that affected her lack of fond memories in that place.

She clenched her jaw tightly, hating herself for agreeing, even in part, with _Luthor_.

It seemed as though every minute that passed, her hate of him just kept growing; The only thing keeping her silent was her fear. The moment she even considered retribution against him her throat closed up and her heartbeat sped up like she was running a marathon.

Shaking her head and focusing on the present, Chloe finished getting dressed and brushed her hair out of her eyes.

The whole reason behind her getting dressed up wasn't because of work though, and not just because it was a Sunday. Her friend Pete was visiting. Apparently his mom had a case that was going to bring her to Metropolis for a few days, so Pete would be staying with his dad for a few days.

She stepped downstairs, shrugging on her jacket as she did so and stepped out the door. Fondly running a hand over the door of her VW Beetle (It'd been with her through thick and thin) the brunette opened the door and put the key in the ignition.

The drive to Smallville would take around half an hour, so the brunette had plenty of time to just think. She halfheartedly flicked the radio on and leaned back, keeping her hands on the wheel.

Staring down the surprisingly narrow strip of road that lead to Smallville (Past Smallville, actually.) Chloe couldn't help but think over the many people ruined by Luthor, not just physically but financially. The polluted water supply due to their chemicals, the landmarks closed down and turned into parking garages and homes for the employees, the people that had been shunted to the side in the wake of the Luthor's industrialization, the lack of other jobs in the area, even the local farms that hadn't sold and the school had been affected negatively by the Luthor's takeover, many becoming ramshackle and bankrupt, pretty much all sport save hockey and football was closed down at the small local highschool in favour of trying to attain better grades and get the hell out of the Podunk town, almost everyone desperate to avoid working at the blight on the landscape that was LuthorCorp.

Of course, the highschool was having trouble getting the funding for repairs now, thanks to that bastards actions. But maybe it was for the best; With less schooling facilities, people were more likely to move out of the blight on the landscape.

She sadly looked at the Hubbard farm out of the corner of her eye, taking in the boards covering the window and the rickety roofing tiles. Next door the Kent farm's few remaining livestock stepped between the fields, unbothered by the broken fencing and holes in the stable. A small light flickered in the window.

She sighed and turned back to the road, making her way towards the center of the town; One of the few places unaffected by the LuthorCorp takeover, save for the parking garage that had taken the place of the Talon and a few of the closed shops.

She pulled into the space outside The Beanery, parking close to the curb and making her way into the largely empty coffee shop. Ordering a cappuccino and making her way to a nearby table close to the window, Chloe set herself in to wait.

So caught up in her memories of the town, Chloe was startled when a hand fell on her shoulder. She turned her head and noticed the dark skin. "Pete!" She exclaimed, grinning as she stood and pulled him into a hug.

"Hey." He greeted with a smile, returning the hug. "How've you been, Chlo?"

She sat back down, watching as he took a seat opposite her with a carton of orange juice. "Fine, fine. With the graduation and all my dad and I have finally moved out." She informed, remembering his words of distaste regarding the town when he'd left for Wichita.

"That's great." He eyed the town outside the window bitterly. "I'm glad you made it out. Luthor's running this place into the ground."

She furrowed her brow as she watched the few people walking down the street, eyes nervous as they looked out for anything out of the ordinary. In a way, Luthor's attack of the graduation ceremony had been a blessing to them. The meteor freaks of the town had practically free reign of the town, so having a number of them suddenly massacred definitely bought some peace to the town. It was well known to those "In the know" that coach Walt could control fire and that Sean Calvin absorbed heat. It was one of the only reasons the boy had done so well on the team; Coach Walt supplied Calvin with heat, and in return the boy did better than almost anyone on the field. A murderous match made in heaven. But there was no way in hell they'd been killed by a fire.

Unfortunately the police in the town didn't acknowledge this due to strenuous denial of meteor mutations existence; If they didn't see it, they didn't have to deal with it. It was also one of the reasons Van Mcnulty had escaped Belle Reeve so easily twice before he was properly institutionalized.

Her attention was driven back to Pete by his clicking fingers in front of her face. She shook her head and apologized, remembering the fire. "Sorry, just... Remembering the fire."

His eyes softened as he nodded in understanding. "Right, I heard you were there when it all went down, I'm surprised you made it out unscathed."

'"Unscathed" was hardly the right word for it.' She thought wryly, pursing her lips as she thought of everything that had happened. Unscathed definitely wasn't the right word for it.

"Though I heard a rumour that the only reason some people made it out was because there were two escape routes; One out the fire escape to the quad, and the other..." He hesitated.

She knew what he was talking about. The mysterious "Cold spot". During the massive blaze that had overtaken the learning premises, one entrance had been nearly completely untouched, save for a few burn spots and damaged walls. The entrance at the end of the hall leading past the Torch.

Her lips tugged down into a frown, and she tried to hold onto the thought that it had been a fluke; That she didn't owe that _monster _anything. Even if he had, out of some sick passing fancy, decided to ensure her safety, he had still been responsible for the fire starting in the first place.

"So," She started, pasting on a smile. "How's it been going in Wichita?" She queried, trying to move to a safer topic.

He leaned against the table and started to talk about how his mom and dad had started to reconcile after the fire; How they'd realized after hearing about the fire that it could have been him and that life was too short. His father had even (finally) given up on his own farmlands and decided to move in with them and had gotten a job at a local factory doing wood and metalwork.

She nodded along, laughing at the right points even as she realized just how far apart they had drifted.

"...So, in about a week he'll be coming back with us, out of this cesspool." He lowered his voice as he looked around the place, aware that others might not feel the same way.

Chloe turned her full attention back to him and smiled lightly. "That's great, Pete. I'll bet you're happy with this, right?"

Pete furrowed his brow, reluctantly turning to look at her. "A little. I am a bit disappointed that I won't have an excuse to come through this area again."

The brunette nodded, realizing what he meant. "Well, we'll still have e-mail, and we can talk on the phone, right?" She tried.

"Yeah." He nodded slowly, though she could clearly see the doubt in his eyes. "So! You're working at the Planet now?" He changed the subject to more familiar ground. "That's been your dream since you were, what, eight?" He teased.

"Six." She returned, chin in the air. "Is that a problem?"

"No, no." He laughed, pretending to cower. "So, how's it been going?"

"It's been great." Her eyes lit up, sparkling like they always did when she was passionate about something.

They spent the next near hour reminiscing on the past, and time passed so quickly that when Pete looked at the time and his phone she could scarcely believe it.

"No," She whined, pouting. "You just got here."

Pete grinned at her, reaching out to ruffle her immaculate hairdo, leaving her blustering as she pushed the offending appendage away. "Damn it Pete." She huffed, her lips twitching despite herself.

He chuckled as he stood, pulling his coat off the back of the chair. "It was nice talking to you again, Chloe." He said sincerely, smiling wistfully. "Maybe we can do this again sometime in the future. Maybe one of your hot-shot stories'll bring you through Wichita." He said, though they both knew that the chance of that happening was remote at best.

"Yeah..." She slumped as he turned to leave. "I'll see you around, Pete." She waved him off.

"See ya around, Chlo."

Chloe fondly watched him walk down the aisle, maneuvering over to the door and down the street. She sighed when he was out of sight and slouched in her seat, nursing her now-cold coffee. She looked up, prepared to order another cup, and froze, emerald-green eyes wide in horror.

Standing at the counter, back to her, yet no more indistinguishable than if they'd been face-to-face with his slick black hair and suit that probably cost more than her father earned in a year, stood Clark Luthor.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own Smallville.

**Chapter four:**

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><p>Chloe stared at the figure standing at the counter, shaking as she watched him flirt with the girl making his coffee. As though he hadn't effectively ruined the lives of so many for his sick amusement.<p>

Luthor turned to a table, taking a seat and quietly leaning back as he waited for his order. Why would he come in here of all places? And why now?

She didn't believe in coincidences; hadn't for a while now, long before she left Smallville.

The brunette watched as he shuffled slightly, tapping on the table nonchalantly as the waitress stepped up to his table, serving tray in one hand and the other placing his drink down. She saw his mouth move once more, and judging from the light pink dusting the girl's cheeks he was flirting again.

"...But then, I suppose I should have expected it." Her brow furrowed as she caught the tail-end of his conversation, the waitress' expression entranced by his charm. "But tell her that I was looking for her, would you?" He calmly finished, taking a casual sip of his coffee and smiling at the girl.

She listened as the girl hastily assured him that she would tell whoever it was that he was looking for whatever he wanted and then walked off to place another customer's order, the shady man sitting in the corner folding his newspaper and greeting her as she did so.

Who could he possibly be looking for? Lana Lang had taken over the Beanery following the original owner's move out of the small town; Could that be it? She pursed her lips as she stared at the waitress, turning back to Luthor only to find the table empty.

"Well now," She tensed once more, eyes widening at the unexpected and unwelcome voice beside her. "I haven't seen you around for quite a while. How have you been, 'Chloe'?" Clark Luthor queried, leaning in close as though they were old friends.

She swallowed the urge to cower, mouth suddenly dry as she took in the terrifying figure beside her. "...Fine." She replied, jutting her chin out in defiance.

He raised an eyebrow at her response, but smirked nonetheless. "Good, good," He purred, eyes briefly leaving her face to regard the dip in her shirt, making her want to put her coat on to deny him the satisfaction. "I'd heard that your father found employment in Metropolis."

She gulped as it occurred to her that he had been monitoring her, following her like she was some sort of pet project, but refused to allow him that either. She straightened slightly. "Yeah, well... My dad's never out of a job for long."

She caught the waitress from before glaring at her from behind the bar, obviously jealous. _'You can have him!' _A part of her wanted to scream. Another desperately wanted to crawl under a rock or run away, anything to get her away from here. "I'm glad to hear that." He voiced, drawing her attention back to him. She briefly wondered how she had even managed to ignore him for a moment. Judging from the minorly irritated look in his eyes so did he.

She felt mildly smug at his reaction, though it was tempered by the fear of what he could, _would, _do if she made him angry enough. She was well aware that if he wanted he could and would burn this place to the ground, kill everyone in it and repeat his actions from that night once more; It was only that it might be more likely if she did try to run that stopped her from doing so. "Much as I'd love to stay and chat, I've got places I've gotta be." She lied airily, hoping he wouldn't call her on it. She knew there was not a damn thing she could do to stop him.

"Of course." He drawled smoothly, finger running along the rim of his cup. "I understand all too well how... Busy you are." She was sure that there was an innuendo in there but she refused to allow herself to read into it; Refused to allow him the satisfaction.

She stood from her chair, grabbing her bag and pulling the strap over her shoulder.

"I do hope that you'll be more amenable to a chat later on though." He smiled suavely. There was no mistaking the leer that he leveled her with, nor the salacious way that he spoke the word 'amenable'. "I'll be seeing you later. That's a promise."

She forcefully suppressed the urge to shake, knowing that any fear on her part would just excite him further. Briskly turning on her heel, the girl made her way to the door, stepping into the near-vacant street.

A hand shoving her to the side was all the warning that she got as a disheveled figure grabbed her bag, sending her sprawling in on the sidewalk. "My purse!" She cried, watching him hastily throw her bag into the street, hands gripping both her purse and her phone. "Someone stop him, he's got my purse!" She cursed the heels she was wearing as she watched him run. All she had wanted was a meeting with an old friend and, later, an interview with the mayor of Smallville on the small town's economical crisis, and instead she'd been hit on by her rapist in a public place and then mugged.

_'This can't be happening.' _She shook her head in disbelief. For a moment she stood there in silence, and then she felt something brush against her leg. Looking down she found the strap on her handbag brushing against her skin, purse on top of it and phone lying beside it.

For a moment she stared in confusion, brow furrowed at the innocuous objects. _'How?'_ Only one thing could possibly explain it; The chances of a random meteor freak intervening were slim, and she didn't believe in miracles.

The brunette looked back through the Beanery window, eyes locking onto the smug expression on his face, eyes glinting in malicious pleasure. A motion caught her eye and she looked down, paling when she saw his hands.

Strong, large hands brushed themselves off with a napkin that was quickly becoming dyed a brilliant red hue.

For some they may have mistaken it as some form of compassion; Maybe a fondness that had grown or a usefulness that she held. She, however, knew full well what the 'gesture' was meant to be.

It was a warning. 'If I can do this in broad daylight in the middle of a street with no-one any the wiser, imagine what I could do to you.'

She paled as he raised his eyes from his now-clean hands, meeting her own with a pride that could only be seen on the face of a violent sociopath in the wake of what he'd just done, and her hands clenched her keys tight enough to draw blood; A sharp sting that drew her back to reality.

She hastily fumbled for her things, putting them back in her handbag and, with one last terrified expression, jumped into her VW beetle as though she were being chased.

Clark Luthor stared after the retreating vehicle, absently looking down at the tiny droplets of blood that only he with his superior vision could possibly see.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own Smallville.

**Chapter five:**

* * *

><p>Clark chuckled as he exited the small town coffee shop, ignoring the appreciative glances sent his way by the fickle girls that worked there. He was amused that the young brunette had stepped into the building, not seeming to notice him coming out of the manager's office. He'd even exited through the back and come in front just to see the look on her face as she saw him. She hadn't disappointed.<p>

Meetings at the tiny businesses of Smallville and the fertilizer plant aside, today had been one of the more _exciting _days he had had; His father had heard about his little foray into the pest control business and decided to punish him for his indiscretions.

He stared after the small red vehicle speeding into the distance and absently threw the near-full cup of coffee into one of the nearby trashcans, smirking as the car exited his line of vision.

On the bright side, he knew that this wouldn't be the last time he saw the petite girl; Between her career in journalism and her father's job at the Metropolis branch he would make sure of it.

* * *

><p>Chloe panted as she dashed up the stairs two at a time, locking herself in her room and collapsing onto her bed. Seeing the evil Luthor progeny had bought back all kinds of horrible memories, and not for the first time she cursed his penchant for the dramatic and sheer cruelty. He knew she was there; He had to have known for a while at least, watching her while she talked with her friend, while she drank coffee, while she was <em>unaware <em>of him in any way.

How long? How long had he been sitting there enjoying watching her, knowing that she was defenseless and couldn't hope to stop him no matter how hard she tried?

Gathering her wits about her, the young girl sat up, gently pulling open one of the drawers next to the bed and pulling out one of the few things of her mother's that she still had.

An emerald-green rock lay embedded in the center of the small pendant, shaped like an oval surrounded by tarnished silver.

The pendant hadn't been expensive, nor was it particularly valuable or durable, but it's true worth lay in sentiment; It had been gifted to her by her mother, Moira Sullivan, mere weeks before the other woman had been committed.

For a while she had worn the cheap jewelry everywhere she went, but an incident with the football team had damaged it, leaving a thick crack running through it. Lug-head's throwing footballs had always been one of her peeves, but never before that moment had she felt true hatred for any single player before, even when Sean Calvin attempted to kill her and another had thought to wreck her Torch office, she had been angry and scared at worst, but not truly hateful.

For a while she simply sat there, staring at the green gem and dull metal, before lightly pushing it back into her bedside drawer and closing it. Those small rocks had ruined so many lives, caused people to go psychotic and given powers to the already deranged, but she could never bring herself to throw it away; It simply meant to much to her.

She hissed as her thoughts instantly turned back to the Luthor spawn; Everyone knew that he was adopted, Lionel Luthor didn't exactly try to keep it a secret; In fact, if you looked deeply enough, it almost seemed like he took pleasure in pitting his two sons against one another, watching them vie for his attention.

Although lately both sons seemed to hate the older man, Lex Luthor was known to actively avoid functions that his father would be frequenting, whereas _Clark _seemed to just not care.

She scowled, walking over to her desk and booting up her computer. She was tired of having to fear the unknown. Even if it killed her she was going to discover the truth one way or another.

* * *

><p>Pacing his office, Lionel Luthor turned to stare at his son, watching as the youth sat on the black leather without a care in the world. "And you want me to what?" He drolled, watching his son's face for the tick that would inevitably follow. He knew the boy well enough that he knew it would always chafe at him having to ask a favour of his father.<p>

"I feel that selected talents could be put to better use under my direct employ." He shrugged, as though he didn't particularly care. Nonetheless Lionel felt a stab of vindictive glee as the expected reaction briefly slipped through his visage.

"And you think that a former plant manager will work better under _you._" He shot back, watching the broad-shouldered youth for any reaction.

Clark glared up at the businessman, rolling his eyes. "I will admit to having an interest in the history of him. Working in a town like Smallville, high work ethic and no sick days; He seems like an ideal candidate for my new sections manager."

Lionel narrowed his eyes at him, lips tugging into a frown. "And this _interest _would have nothing to do with the man's daughter?" He smirked as his words evidently riled the other man, but nonetheless Clark tried to school his expression.

"I won't lie," He started, glare intensifying. "His daughter does look... _Attractive, _and the girl's articles on the meteor freaks of Smallville is impressive considering the denial that most seem to have on the subject, but I'm genuinely interested in Gabe Sullivan as an employee, and I'm not hiring him for his daughter." He lied.

"Really, Clark. I've read the reports, I've heard about your interactions with the young Ms. Sullivan." Pursing his lips, Clark silently cursed Lana Lang and her little business. "Try a little harder, son." He taunted.

Clark snarled, slamming his fists on Lionel's desk as he seemed to virtually disappear. _"You're not irreplaceable, 'Dad'." _He hissed under his breathe to the older man, voice too low for any of the camera's around the office to hear. _"I will hire Gabe Sullivan for my branch, you will sign the papers, and you will avoid monitoring me in the future if you know what's good for you."_

Both men knew that he was at least partially bluffing, Lionel had a chunk of meteor rock in his desk at all times and even if Clark did act it would be a race to see who was faster. They both knew that it would probably end in Clark's victory. But, simultaneously, they both knew exactly what his desperate threat also meant; He was willing to bargain.

Too rarely did the super-powered boy actually offer his abilities to the older man's cause, but in revealing his hand so early he clearly knew what was at stake.

"Alright." The older man spoke casually after a moment of silence. "But I'm going to want something in return for this."

Huffing, Clark drew back and collected himself. "...Alright, what do you want?" He asked gruffly.

Lips twisting into a parody of a smile, Lionel spoke. "A little 'venture', so to speak. Two men are currently bidding for the top spot on my list of bad purchases. I want _you _to get rid of said opposition."

A deniable statement that clearly conveyed what he truly wanted; Kill these two men, they haven't met their quota, they owe me money or they just plain annoy me.

"And who would these two men be?" He queried coolly.

"Edward Teague and Oliver Queen."

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><p>Chloe stared intently at the screen before her, finger twitching as she scrolled down the page. No birth records. No known family. Not even a blood type.<p>

The youngest Luthor had seemingly come from nowhere, adopted into a rich family on nothing but the kindness of Lionel Luthor's heart. Lionel Luthor didn't do kindness, but he did do business.

She had seen just what kind of man the eldest Luthor was, and while she didn't forgive Clark and still hated him every bit as much as she had when she first met him, she couldn't help the twinge of pity that went through her at the thought of being found and used by such a terribly man at such a young age. He hadn't stood a chance.

She fruitlessly searched for minutes, hacking both Metropolis and Smallville's medical records. Nothing.

She searched through the articles involving him; business functions and charity events, school records and any incident reports. Nothing.

Adoption records. Metropolis united charities, scant few adoptions actually done by said charity, funded and built by... Lionel Luthor. One small mystery. He had been adopted the day of the meteor shower.

A search of just what he had been doing the day of the meteor shower revealed very little, but expanding the search and she found his most recent purchase from that day.

Ross' Cream Corn. Lionel Luthor had been in Smallville the day of the meteor shower, Lex Luthor had been caught in the aftermath and shortly after lost his hair, and Clark... Luthor had been adopted shortly after the meteor shower.

He had been found in Smallville the day of the meteor shower. There were no records of him before then.

A smoking gun, but when she put it all together...

For a brief moment she had an image of a small boy without any family or relatives being strapped to a table by a group of white-clad people, cold calculating eyes thinking of the money to be made.

For a brief moment her absolute hatred was tempered by stunned pity, but it went away just as quickly. Clark Luthor hadn't exactly led a hard life, and the only person responsible for Clark Luthor's horrific actions was Clark Luthor. He didn't deserve her sympathy.

Now how could she use this?


End file.
